Opposites Attract.

Chapter 26 - Cry.

Mariam's POV:  

Numb. That's how I felt. Numb. I was worn out despite the fact that I had been curled up in bed for days on end and my limbs ached. I hadn't eaten in days. Every attempt from anyone at conversing with me met with a blank wall from me. It took everything I had in me to will myself out of bed. Staring at my reflection on the mirror in my room, I barely recognised the pathetic limp individual that stared back. My hazel eyes protruded out and were ringed with dark circles, puffy from all the endless tears that I'd shed as I wept into the darkness every night. The curtains were tightly drawn, my usually bright and inviting room was bleak and dark, a prison that was holding me captive, only I wasn't a prisoner and I wanted to be here. Being here was my only solace to the cruelty outside these for walls. I didn't want to speak to nor see anyone. I just wanted to wallow in my own self-pity.    

"Mariam?" my sister called out apprehensively. "Honey, you have to get up."  

Unable to bring myself to reply to her I sank back into bed and threw my head deeper into my pillows, hiding in my own safe haven under my duvet which didn't last long as my sister came into the room and swiftly peeled off my duvet, my safety shield, and was met with a groan. She gave me a doleful and afflicted expression. An expression I hated. Despised being on the receiving end of.    "Mar, I'm going to make you some food, okay?" she informed me slowly while rubbing my arm tenderly unsure of how I would react. 

"Jamal and I just came back from the store and we thought we could all cook a meal together and sit down -- as a family. Dad's going to come back early from work." she spoke gently attempting to appear blissful and jubilant but it was just a facade and that facade was slowly slipping as I saw the pleading look in her eyes. Pleading with me to make an effort. Pleading to help her help me. Pleading for all of us to try and move on and salvage the family we had left. 

 I turned to face my sister slowly and stared back at her -- glaring. Food. As if a nice hot dinner and a good old cuppa would make everything better. Take away this gnawing ache. This pain. The funeral had been the most depressing thing that I had ever experienced in my life. Family, friends of my mother, acquaintances, neighbours, everyone was weeping. My mother was a friendly person, beautiful and generous inside and out, and those that knew her absolutely adored her. She would be truly missed and not only by us, her children and family but at least half the community. No-one cried as loud as I did though. The feeling was simply earth shattering and heart breaking. Seeing my mother dead. Knowing she would never hold me ever again. Tell me she loves me. Scold me. Tell me off for the smallest things. God what I wouldn't give to hear her shouting at me to clean my room. My worst fear of losing her had ultimately come to life.

I remember Daniel being there, stood at the back, shifty as ever, in a black suit that accentuated his features and almost bought his eyes to life. Only those eyes wear filled to the brim with tears. He didn't let them fall though; he was trying to be strong for me and I wasn't sure why.   The women were ushered out of the surrounding area, as a mark of respect, when it was time to lower my mother into the ground. I could hear the prayers everyone was reciting in hushed tones, praying for my mum and her soul. Unable to focus on the weeping and sorrow in everyone's eyes which only broke my heart that much more, I took the opportunity to take in my surroundings. It was a beautiful place. A beautiful place for the final resting place of a beautiful woman. The sight that unfolded in front of my eyes was truly breathtaking. The whole area was surrounded by green grass, luscious and full, and a magnificent fountain took centre stage, the water flowing as freely as the tears from my eyes. It was simple and peaceful. A voice inside my head told me that my mother would be happy here. When Jamal and my father had finally lowered my mother into the grave all I could do was sit on the floor and weep with a bleary-eyed Amira by my side. Nothing would be the same ever again. We would never be a family again. We would never have someone to call mum. And that hurt. It was almost as if someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and was repeatedly stomping on it right in front of my very eyes.